


talking rings around each other

by AlexSeanchai



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Identity Reveal, Inspired by Fanart, Marriage Proposal, Podfic Welcome, Romantic Angst, Romantic Fluff, Season/Series 03 Spoilers, sitting these two clowns down to talk about their feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 14:17:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20229235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexSeanchai/pseuds/AlexSeanchai
Summary: 😸🖤:something weird happened😸🖤:i'd say something funny happened except nobody else seems to think it's a joke😸🖤:either that or the joke is on me and no one wants to say so😸🖤:but if it's not on me it must be on her and😸🖤:she's really important to me lb i don't know what to do





	talking rings around each other

**Author's Note:**

  * For [buggachat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/buggachat/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Окольцовывающие разговоры](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21250337) by [trololonasty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trololonasty/pseuds/trololonasty)
  * Inspired by [a proposal](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/507523) by buggachat. 

> This is a direct sequel to buggachat's comic; read that first, it's important. Since I can't figure out how even to tell if images on Tumblr that I didn't put there myself from mobile _have_ alt text, though, for accessibility reasons I'm putting image descriptions for the comic in the end notes here.

The glorious part about it being time for class to start again was, in this class, Adrien sat somewhere Marinette couldn't see him without being really obvious about looking.

The other glorious part was, if Mme. Mendeleiev was present, then everyone's smart remarks about Marinette skipping a few important steps in the middle would, presumably, be _absent_.

Or at least _silent_. She had three unread text conversations waiting for her to be able to open them (given her guesses at their contents) until she could read them without her head melting.

—Four? No, that was her partner's text chime—

> 😸🖤_:_ hey can i bug you a minute? it can wait

Someday Marinette would figure out how Chat Noir so often knew to text Ladybug when Marinette needed a lift. He didn't know who she was—she was certain of that—so it was probably coincidental.

> 🐞_:_ Fire away, it'll take my mind off Humiliating Experience #847

Probably.

> 😸🖤_:_ —should i ask

She muted her phone, keeping it in her lap, under the desk. Wouldn't do to let Mme. Mendeleiev catch her texting in class: only Marinette herself and Tikki should be able to see what was on the Ladybug–yo-yo–connected side of the device, but no sense taking chances.

> 🐞_:_ Too many people saw it, too easily identifying
> 
> 🐞_:_ Wish I could tell you though, I know you'd make me feel better
> 
> 😸🖤_:_ …one two three four i declare a pun war?
> 
> 🐞_:_ Didn't you text for a reason?
> 
> 😸🖤_:_ right
> 
> 😸🖤_:_ something weird happened
> 
> 😸🖤_:_ i'd say something funny happened except nobody else seems to think it's a joke
> 
> 😸🖤_:_ either that or the joke is on me and no one wants to say so
> 
> 😸🖤_:_ but if it's not on me it must be on her and
> 
> 😸🖤_:_ she's really important to me lb i don't know what to do
> 
> 🐞_:_ What can you tell me about what happened?
> 
> 😸🖤_:_ uh
> 
> 😸🖤_:_ hang on let me figure out how to say this
> 
> 🐞_:_ Take your time, I'm not supposed to be texting in class anyway
> 
> 😸🖤_:_ okay context. my
> 
> 😸🖤_:_ my important person. i don't even know if i can say she's my friend.
> 
> 😸🖤_:_ sometimes it's like she's one of the closest friends i've got and sometimes it's like i drowned her kitten.
> 
> 🐞_:_ —That sounds like a super fun relationship
> 
> 😸🖤_:_ shut up
> 
> 😸🖤_:_ i WANT to be her friend, i TRY, i just
> 
> 😸🖤_:_ mixed signals hell and no one tells me why
> 
> 🐞_:_ And the something weird is also mixed signals hell?
> 
> 😸🖤_:_ right again
> 
> 😸🖤_:_ so today
> 
> 😸🖤_:_ i know you noticed i hate going home
> 
> 🐞_:_ Let's see, you're running all over the city at odd hours, you said all the way back the Bubbler "most" adults love and care for their kids, you said a couple months ago you'd give up "everything" for me and it kind of sounded like you meant it…
> 
> 🐞_:_ Nope didn't notice a thing
> 
> 😸🖤_:_ i really mean it
> 
> 😸🖤_:_ my parents suck
> 
> 😸🖤_:_ giving up my friends would be horrible but giving up my parents would only suck
> 
> 🐞_:_ …Do I have to worry if you're safe at home?
> 
> 🐞_:_ Because if you're not, my parents will adopt you in a heartbeat
> 
> 😸🖤_:_ bug i love that you're offering
> 
> 😸🖤_:_ but you're my fourth offer
> 
> 😸🖤_:_ and if it gets that bad, i'm taking the first one, i'd rather be his brother than yours

…Well, that wasn't insulting at all.

> 😸🖤_:_ which STRANGELY ENOUGH
> 
> 😸🖤_:_ leads right into today's weird
> 
> 🐞_:_ ?

The typing indicator hovered onscreen for a long moment. Typing and backspacing, Marinette thought; typing and backspacing.

> 😸🖤_:_ something my important person said 
> 
> 😸🖤_:_ her parents are great, okay, i envy
> 
> 😸🖤_:_ she is not one of the other three adoption offers but
> 
> 😸🖤_:_ her face when i said that? i hoped she was about to be the fourth?
> 
> 😸🖤_:_ like i said though i don't even know if she likes me
> 
> 😸🖤_:_ which
> 
> 😸🖤_:_ she proposed marriage?

What?

> 😸🖤_:_ and bolted??
> 
> 😸🖤_:_ and apparently i said okay???

_What_?

> 😸🖤_:_ and now everyone is saying congratulations????

"WHAT?"

> 😸🖤_:_ WAIT SHIT

—Oh shit. That was out loud!

Mme. Mendeleiev was storming over. Marinette thumbed her phone screen off.

"This is _class_ time, young lady!" fumed Mme. Mendeleiev. "This is not _chat with your friends_ time! Hand over your phone and go straight to the principal's office!"

Marinette, feeling her face heat again, meekly held out her phone for Mme. Mendeleiev to snatch. Well, sort of meekly: "I don't know why you're picking on me," she grumbled. "Chloé texts in class all the time." Chloé could also get any of the teachers fired by calling Daddy; it would be a lot easier to correct that problem if any of the teachers admitted out loud it _was_ a problem. "Adrien's texting right now."

—Oh no. Oh no! Oh no no no she should not have said that she _should not have said that_—

Mme. Mendeleiev's attention snapped across the room. "M. Agreste!"

Adrien, equally phoneless, followed Marinette out of the classroom. "Sorry," he muttered.

She couldn't look at him. "What for?"

"Whatever I did that made you do that."

Adrien rarely sounded downcast when any of his friends—and Marinette did hope he counted her among them, as much as it hurt to leave it at that and wish the humorless mystery girl would stop making him sad—were physically present with him. Now, with her trudging towards the principal's office right in front of him? He sounded utterly dejected.

Shiiit.

"I don't even know how you knew I had my phone out," he added.

"I didn't mean to." She couldn't look at him. "I—sometimes my brain—the spam filters don't work. Thoughts I should auto-delete, I blurt out."

"Oh." His tone wasn't any lighter.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Adrien caught her wrist: warm fingers on her bare skin, and the smooth metal of his ring. "We'll just get you better spam filters."

His _ring_.

Marinette spun to face him. "Between everything in your life," she blurted out, "how do you still have any fun?" Adrien opened his mouth, but she wasn't done yet: "Aren't you scared you'll eventually have to sacrifice everything you—for—" She clapped her free hand to her mouth. Stuff she shouldn't say wasn't going to get said if she couldn't open her mouth to say it.

Adrien stared down at her.

"—Never mind," Marinette mumbled, dropping her hand and staring at his shoelaces, face burning. "Guess I was wrong."

"—Marinette?"

She didn't want to make him let go. But she wasn't going to get anywhere he wasn't looking at her otherwise.

"Marinette, please don't tell me this is humiliating experience number eight hundred forty-eight."

What number had she even told Chat? Was it 847?

It was random keystrokes, to be honest. But 847 sounded right. "Do you want me to lie to you?"

Adrien snorted. "That boxing glove of Nathaniel's makes so much more sense now."

There'd been a lot of notes-comparing going around right after Gamer 2.0. As far as she knew, every detail Alya had gotten hold of was on the Ladyblog; Nathaniel had admitted to remembering that round but refused to say more, and Lila had been close-mouthed enough Alya's write-up listed Evillustrator's opponent as three question marks. _Adrien_ shouldn't know that tidbit. But _Chat Noir_?

Marinette swallowed, squaring her shoulders, and reached out to take his left hand, and bring it up to her right cheek. "Eight hundred forty-nine," she said, still unable to look higher than his collarbone. "But who's counting."

Adrien's fingertip brushed over her earlobe. Over her earring.

"My lady," he whispered in reverent awe.

"Kitten," said Marinette, and let herself fall forward into her partner's arms.

He embraced her as though his life depended on it, or hers. "Why are you crying?" he asked; it sounded like he was crying himself. "I won't hurt you, Bug, you know I won't hurt you, or your family, you _know_ I won't let anything hurt you—"

She knew that. She knew that _very well_. He was most likely to keep her unhurt by throwing himself straight to hell! And when he did, she would lose Adrien too, she _had_ lost Adrien too—

And they could not have this out in the _school fucking hallway_. Marinette pulled away. "Talk elsewhere," she ordered. "Come on."

* * *

The Pont des Arts was as good a place as any for Ladybug and Chat Noir to have that talk, she supposed, as long as they spoke quietly and stayed clear of everyone else. She leaned on the railing, looking downriver, watching her partner, and considering the merits of murdering Gabriel Agreste. Adrien probably didn't want her to—probably—but with as much heartbreak as that man had caused her partner, Ladybug could probably justify it as acting in defense of Paris.

"Ladybug?" asked Chat Noir, staring downriver. That dejected note was back, and his ears were drooping. "Do you hate me?"

"_What_?" Where the hell had he gotten that idea? "No. No. Never."

"Oh. That's good." And it wasn't going away. "I guess I was hoping you'd find me out and swoon at my feet. Or something. Swooning's not your style."

Huh?

"Silly of me, right?" he continued. "But you don't hate me. Better than I could expect, I guess. Since it's you."

What was he _talking_ about?

"Don't worry about this morning," Chat added, still without even glancing her way. "I'll tell Alya and everyone to stop planning wedding music and whatever else they were doing. I won't let them keep teasing you about it."

"What?" Ladybug asked blankly. "Why?" He'd said he loved her. He'd said he'd give up everything for her. "Don't you want to?"

Chat startled, ears jolting upright and alert, then slumped again. "What, marry you?" Why did he sound so _down_— "Why would I want to? You don't."

"I _what_?" screeched Ladybug, loud enough to turn any head on the river that wasn't already taking surreptitious photos. More than loud enough to hurt him, damn it, she _knew_ his hearing was extra sensitive compared to most people's! "Chat—"

—Chat loved Ladybug. Chat was Adrien. _Adrien_ loved Ladybug.

"Humorless mystery girl," said Ladybug, feeling her heart fall to shatter, piece by piece, at his feet. When had he gotten the idea she didn't like Chat's jokes? She _loved_ his jokes, he just had no idea when was a bad time to tell them! "That's _me_."

He turned his head toward her, just a little. "When did I say you're humorless?"

"After Puppeteer's waxworks."

Chat frowned. "I don't remember saying that."

"You did. You said—I think these were your exact words—you said you're not good with jokes. You said the girl you're in love with doesn't like them either."

Chat blinked at her. Ladybug didn't know whether he wanted her to hug him or not. _She_ wanted to, and yesterday she would have assumed that at worst he wouldn't care, but—Adrien hated it when people tried to be overtly romantic at him. (Or, worse, sexual.) _Hated_ it. Probably half the reason Chat Noir flirted so loudly with Ladybug, in love with her or otherwise, was _so that_ at least one side of him wouldn't have to deal with it from anyone else! And she'd proposed fucking _marriage_ this morning; no wonder he could hardly bear to look at her!

"I did say that," Chat said slowly. "And I remember—uh—" His gaze cut sideways, to a couple of girls maybe university age who were taking photos from a little too close for auditory comfort.

Ladybug glared at them both. They backed off.

He lowered his voice anyway: "I remember M didn't say much to me for three weeks. I still don't know what I did to her—unless it was the statue prank, but we talked about that! I thought we were good!—but…" He sagged a little further. "I told you, LB. M's really important to me. I care what she thinks. I care what _you_ think. And I have no idea what you're thinking anymore."

"I realize," Ladybug said, trying to choose her words with care, "your father is a dick who doesn't care about you and therefore you missed a few units of Basic Human Interaction 101—" Chat snorted. "—but when someone finds out the person they've been in love with is in love with someone else, the thing the someone is supposed to do is go be sad somewhere their loved one isn't. So the loved one can be happy."

Silence. Silence, and a neutral expression far too akin to the smile Adrien wore when he didn't want anyone to know what he was feeling.

He straightened with a forced laugh. "You know, those words all sounded like perfect French? But they don't make sense in that order."

"It's not the first time I've decided you being happy is more important than whatever I want for myself," Ladybug told him. "I made you a scarf for your birthday. Way back when we'd barely met. I was going to give it directly to you, but then Chloé happened, and then the Bubbler happened, and then you showed up the next day saying your father gave you the best present ever. I didn't want to take credit because you'd be so disappointed, and you looked so happy." Chat looked as though she'd clocked him with a sledgehammer. "I'm not lying. Ask Alya."

Chat shook his head, a rapid feline motion. "Okay, no, Bug, take the goddamn credit. You worked _hard_ on that, and you'll never get a rep as a good designer in your own right if your work has someone else's name on it. I will get my father to lecture you on this if I have to."

"—You would?"

He winced. "I'd try. I doubt he'd find the time." He turned, looking downriver again; then just down, toying with his ring. "Papa-Garou. You didn't mean that after all. Did you."

She had meant no such thing, of course. _Then_. But to say that now—

"We should get back to class," Chat told her. "See you next akuma."

Ladybug blinked, and Chat Noir was gone.

* * *

Mme. Mendeleiev's class was almost over when Marinette got back to the school. She skulked in the girls' room for a few minutes, intending to leave when people started filling the halls so it would be less obvious how much class she'd missed, and then had a much better idea.

The art room had jewelers' supplies.

Well, beaders' supplies. But that was close enough.

Chat Noir's romantic displays were big gestures. No wonder Adrien had never seen anything Marinette did that was too small to trip his 'this is romantic enough to be uncomfortable' tripwires as being romantic at all. If he hated her for doing this, well, he'd hate her anyway for this morning, wouldn't he? And at least then he'd _know_.

If Marinette had to guess, she'd put Adrien's ring size in the Q to S range. The problem, of course, was that she wasn't sure. But this stainless steel band was adjustable up to W; it would work, and there was more than one in that style here. These were also adjustable down to K, so they would still match if she could wear rings without them driving her absolutely buggy, since she would wear L; that didn't matter, though, since she would glue a thin strip of fabric to hers or something, if she needed something to make sure it would stay on the cord she wore her kwagatama on. Later. _So_ not a priority for a bit. For now, she needed to set the important parts.

One crystal in the color named Siam. One in jet. And a little bit of superglue.

Marinette rushed out of the art room the moment the first of the next hour's worth of artists without class scheduled drifted in. Adrien would be—in the courtyard, most likely, if he hadn't simply abandoned school for the day altogether—

There, standing near the main doors, talking to Alya and Nino. They had their backs to Marinette, so she couldn't read their faces, but his—

How badly was she _hurting_ him?

But if his answer to her _don't you want to marry me?_ was _you don't_, if that was his only or even his _main_ reason for wanting to tell everyone to forget all about it—

The crowd parted before Marinette; she checked her hands—still bare pink, her left clenched so tightly around both rings she might have to worry later about bruising—to be sure they weren't making way for Ladybug after all. Even Alya and Nino moved aside, with concerned glances between Marinette and the astonished focus of her attention.

Adrien smoothed his face back into that emotion-masking smile.

Marinette dropped to one knee. Held out her closed left hand, bracing it with her right. And opened her palm to show him the two steel rings, one in black, one in red.

Adrien's knees buckled.

"Oh no!" Marinette lunged up to catch him: harder without her mask, when she couldn't brace herself as sturdily. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Adrien I'm so sorry—"

"For what?" Adrien eased them over, sitting down, and pulled Marinette into his lap. He raised his voice: "And what are _you_ all staring at?"

Dozens of abashed eyes found something much more fascinating to look at elsewhere.

"Where did you _get_ those?" Alya asked, leaning over with phone camera at the ready. Marinette opened her hand again, since Adrien couldn't do anything with the rings if she was clinging to them. "Red and black? Wow, Marinette, I would _not_ have pegged you for wanting a Ladynoir wedding theme."

Since Marinette had, until today, made a point of loudly shipping Ladybug with no one whatsoever, she could hardly deny this. Of course, she could also hardly confirm it. "Red for weddings," she said instead.

Alya raised an eyebrow. "On only one of the two rings?"

"Black is the new black?" said Adrien, a note of hysteria in his voice. He took both rings from her hand and examined the black one. "Oh, adjustable. Okay. Gods, you have tiny fingers," he added, slipping the black ring onto her left hand and working it till it fit.

"—Did we miss something important?" Nino asked.

Adrien closed Marinette's right hand around the red ring. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I can't imagine why you'd think that," Marinette added. This ring needed to be wider to fit on Adrien's finger, she could tell. "We need to be careful with these till this time tomorrow. The glue sets enough in the first thirty seconds we can handle the things, but it's not fully bonded for twenty-four hours."

"Noted." Adrien leaned in to nuzzle above and behind her ear. "I can't let my father see it anyway. The first thing he'll say is we're too young for this—"

"We're too young for a lot of things."

There were words for thirteen-year-old combatants. The same terms would keep describing them until they were both legally able to do things like get married. Maybe those terms had less punch now because they were older; maybe more because now they'd been at this nearly a fifth of their lives. None of these words said anything pretty about the people who put them there.

"—not my point. The second thing he'll say is I should have proposed with a _quality_ ring, you know, something shiny new off the production line. Note the bit where I'm certain he won't think of suggesting I have a look in my mother's jewelry box."

Marinette also noted the bit where it would be profoundly obvious to Gabriel Agreste that the materials expenses totaled under five Euro for both rings combined. Maybe seven if she added labor cost.

"And if I can't avoid the conversation altogether," Adrien continued, "I will try to stop him before he gets to the third thing, because if I hear him accuse you of using me as a springboard into the fashion world, I will flat out deck him."

"I admire your restraint," Marinette murmured, staring at his bare finger, and at the ring in her hand. "I've wanted to deck him for years."

Fewer years in Gabriel Agreste's case than in that of Chat Noir's faceless father. But what did that matter now?

"—You okay?" asked Adrien.

No, not really. "You know the bit I quoted?" Marinette asked instead. "When you caught on and said eight hundred forty-eight."

"What about it?"

"Remember what happened right before that?"

Adrien shifted behind her, probably to glare up at their too-curious friends more effectively. "It's not about playing to win, it's about loving to play?"

"Well, yes. Also, no."

"Usually it's one or the other," Adrien observed. Was he purring? He shouldn't _do_ that, not in front of anyone else, Rena Rouge and Carapace or _no_—not that she'd known he _could_ with the mask off, or been sure he could with it on, but still! Why was he purring?

Oh. She'd tensed up.

"I don't need extra time," Ladybug told Chat Noir. "I need _you_."

Adrien sucked in a breath. Then wrapped his arms tight around her.

"I need you," Marinette repeated. "Promise me."

She could almost hear him doing the calculus. That ring-out he'd taken against Gamer 2.0 might be a strategic decision she hated, but it wasn't one she could really argue with: he couldn't purify akumas and he couldn't undo the injuries they caused. It was always going to come down to that, wasn't it?

Then Adrien laughed. "I've been thinking about getting my ears pierced," he told her, relaxing his embrace. "I think I'd look good with earrings like yours, don't you?"

—Holy shit. Holy _shit_. Without the barrier of necessary secrecy between them—and it wasn't like setting down one Miraculous in order to wield another for a while was a problem; the reason Alya never got the Bee was because Alya wasn't about to watch Style Queen take Ladybug out of the game and then Chloé picked up the dropped box, not because Alya wielding the Fox and Bee in alternation wouldn't have worked—

If Ladybug herself didn't have to be the sole thread keeping the sword of Damokles from being the death of Paris—

That could actually _work_!

"I love you," Marinette told Adrien, fumbling the red ring onto his finger.

Alya squealed loudly enough several voices around the courtyard shushed her.

"She ships us," Adrien confided, his volume not dropping one bit.

"Oh, you noticed?" It wasn't like Alya was _that_ much more subtle about Adrien/Marinette than about Ladybug/Chat Noir. "I'm not going to look—" Marinette didn't want to take her eyes off the rings on their joined hands for anything short of kissing her partner breathless. Or going to battle an akuma with him; that would, unfortunately, do as well. "—but I bet she's so proud I finally got the words out that she's absolutely made of honor."

His startled, delighted laugh—she'd never heard it before.

"Are you seriously telling me, Princess," Adrien said, "that all this humble knight had to do to win your heart was take _off_ the suit of amour?"

Marinette elbowed him. "You're ridiculous. Let me up." She didn't need to get up, though. Just to turn enough that he wasn't holding her with her back to him.

And why was she all fluttery in the stomach _now_? It wasn't like they hadn't done this part before.

"Can I borrow a kiss?" she asked. "I promise I'll give it back."

Adrien grinned: Ladybug had caught glimpses of Chat Noir looking this happy before, but she'd never seen it on Adrien. "With interest."

**Author's Note:**

> Image descriptions for buggachat's comic:
> 
> Panel 1: Marinette is carrying a boxful of macarons. "My parents made macarons for everyone!" Off-panel, four different people say, "Woo!" "Awesome!" "Don't drop them this time!" "Thank you!"
> 
> Panel 2: Marinette, standing, holds the macaron box out to Adrien, sitting. "H-Here you go, macaron! Take an Adrien!" Adrien raises a hand to take a macaron: "Wow, thanks, Marinette!"
> 
> Panel 3: Adrien is holding a macaron, looking embarrassed. "You're so lucky, Marinette. Your parents are so wonderful."
> 
> Panel 4: Marinette's blushing as Adrien, off-panel, says "I wish I had parents like yours."
> 
> Panel 5, left: Adrien, eyes closed, is about to eat the macaron. Right: Off-panel, Marinette says "You can." Adrien opens his eyes, startled.
> 
> Panel 6, left: close-up of Marinette looking down, blushing. Right: close-up of Adrien looking up, blushing. Marinette says, "They can be yours too. If you marry me."
> 
> Panel 7: Full-body view of them. They are looking at each other, both blushing a lot. Adrien says, "Okay."
> 
> Panel 8: Marinette runs up and away from Adrien, saying "WHO ELSE WANTS A MACARON?" in very loud font. Adrien is facing forward again, blushing a great deal.
> 
> Panel 9: Close-up of Adrien, blushing and wide-eyed. Alya is leaning around behind him, grinning: "Congrats on the engagement."
> 
> * * *
> 
> [The ring base](https://www.firemountaingems.com/itemdetails/h204042mt), [the red crystals](https://www.firemountaingems.com/itemdetails/h20a3337cy), and [the black crystals](https://www.firemountaingems.com/itemdetails/h20a3310cy).
> 
> * * *
> 
> Find me on [Dreamwidth](https://alexseanchai.dreamwidth.org/) and [Tumblr](https://alexseanchai.tumblr.com/).


End file.
